


Good Vibrations

by hannahrieu



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angry John, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Goodbye Mary, Improvised Sex Toys, M/M, Ode to Chryse Sherlock's a fucking unicorn, One-Sided Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn With Plot, Rimming, Sherlock Loves John, find the unicorn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-27
Updated: 2015-06-27
Packaged: 2018-04-06 11:20:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4219764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahrieu/pseuds/hannahrieu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place during Season 3’s The Empty Hearse:<br/>John realizes Mary will never be enough for him. Sherlock does Molly a favor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> BanimalQ my friend my beta my partner in porn. It's all for you.
> 
> I'm going to hell. Happily.

Chapter 1  
Molly Hooper thought Sherlock Holmes wanted to take her to dinner. Of course Sherlock Holmes had something infinitely more compelling, wonderful and thrilling planned for her.

The day had been unusual. As a pathologist working in St. Bart’s morgue, Molly’s days were usually filled with fascinating work, but it was, as she was discovering, a rather isolated existence.

As the clients streamed into the upstairs apartment at 221B Baker Street, she tried to take notes. She found Sherlock’s lips were faster than her pen.  
Sometimes she’d get caught up in his stare. He wasn’t staring at her of course. He was analyzing his clients like he does, with his fingers tented, pressed against his lips.

Sherlock’s lips.

“Molly?”

Molly snapped out of her thoughts. “What?” she mumbled.

“Could you make us some tea,” said Sherlock, pronouncing each syllable like an impertinent git.

Molly turned red. “Oh. Yes. Of course.”

She flashed a smile at the clients and made her way into the kitchen. While filling the kettle, she eyed the table and counters, noticing a thick layer of dust still covering the teapot and sugar bowl.

She had known he was alive. For two whole years, she kept it to herself. Sherlock Holmes trusted her, and she would have died before breaking that trust.

It still made her heart beat faster at the thought: out of all of the people in the world, Sherlock had turned to her for help. She mattered. And when he asked her to steal, to lie, and to keep secrets, her only thought was to not disappoint him. She had found Sherlock’s dead look-a-like in under an hour. It had taken her another three to get the body to St. Barts. She had waited, barely eating and barely drinking, clutching her cell phone, checking the bars and the volume every five minutes for the next eight hours, awaiting Sherlock’s signal that his plan was a go.

And after the charade, after Sherlock’s bloody doppelganger was removed from the sidewalk, and she had wiped John’s river of tears off his cheeks and slipped him a sedative, she whispered to John to have faith. It’ll all turn out in the end, she’d said. But John had already fallen asleep.

She had not spoken of Sherlock or of that day until yesterday, when his reflection had appeared in her locker mirror. She had fantasized of that moment; the day of his return. It would be the day she would tell him that she was in love with him, and that she didn’t care if he was a high-functioning sociopath or a temperamental snob. She would tell him he was perfect and that she loved him and she wanted to be with him forever.

Yes, that was her fantasy…at first. But she’d met Bill at the pub, and he was nice. He came from a good family. He liked cats and kung-fu and chinese checkers, and she wanted so much to love him. Bill even looked a bit like Sherlock; the curly hair, the long lithe frame, the trench coat. He was sweet, loyal, and ever so boring. Yes, Molly was determined to love him. She thought that if she tried hard enough, she could channel that love she felt for Sherlock into a new love for Bill. And yes, her life had become less lonely. Bill loved to curl up with his arms around her while watching crap telly and play with her hair and kiss her and tell her silly things about his day. The more time they spent together the more they talked of the future. They dreamed of buying a flat near Barts. They joked about having children but discussions had become more serious as of late. She loved his parents; her mother thought he hung the moon. It was all quite…nice. So when Bill asked Molly Hooper to be his wife, who was she to say no?

Her engagement ring was small yet pretty, and she admired it as she wiped the teapot down and poured in the hot water.

Yes, it’s all good and fine that Sherlock was back, but she mustn’t lose her head; she was spoken for. She had moved on.

Molly sighed as she picked up the tray, but upon entered the living room, she found it empty, save for Sherlock standing on the sofa, staring at his photographs pinned to the wall.

“Get your coat” he said, leaping off the couch.

“Where are we going?” said Molly, not quite knowing what to do with the tray.

“Out.”

Sherlock’s trenchcoat swirled as he glided out of the apartment, and Molly clamored behind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These chapters are so tiny. wtf.

The young man’s apartment was filled with trains and maps and tracks and books about trains and everywhere Molly looked, more trains. She began to feel a bit claustrophobic as she hovered behind Sherlock and his new cohort. They were fast forwarding through tunnel surveillance and seemed to find the disappearing man quite troubling.

Sherlock then spent a good fifteen minutes in his mind palace, standing like a statue on the stairs. Molly leaned patiently against the railing; he looked beautiful deep in thought.

“Fancy some chips?”

“What?” mumbled Molly.

“I know a fantastic fish shop just around the corner. The owner always gives me extra portions.” Sherlock bounded down the stairs. Molly followed.

“Did you get him off a murder charge?”

“No, I helped him put up some shelves.”

They both paused at the bottom of the staircase.

“Sherlock, said Molly. “What was today about?”

Sherlock smiled. “Saying thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything you did for me.”

Molly blushed. “It’s okay. It’s my pleasure.”

“No, I mean it.”

Molly looked up at Sherlock. The consulting detective’s eyes were gentle and grateful.

“Moriarty slipped up,” Sherlock said softly. “He made a mistake. He thought the one person that didn’t matter at all to me was the one person who mattered the most. You made it all possible. But you can’t do this again can you.” Sherlock said glanced down at her engagement ring.

“Congratulations by the way.”

Molly felt the ring, the weight of it now heavy on her finger, and she was suddenly desperate to explain herself. She needed Sherlock to understand that Bill was a lovely man, a good man. He had a good family. He loved cats. He loved football. And most importantly, he loved her.

Sherlock bent down and sweetly placed a chaste kiss on her cheek. Molly’s heart leapt into her throat, her body alive and buzzing.

_This can’t be happening. Not now._

Molly stood frozen. Her mind was battling her heart. 

_Not when I’ve waited so long for you._

__Sherlock turned and walked away – but he left the door open behind him. The wind whipped into the lobby._ _

__It was a split second decision. Molly raced out into the cold, searching for Sherlock, and seeing his lithe frame about to turn the corner, shouted:  
“Sherlock!”._ _

__Sherlock stopped and turned, his coat whipping around in the wind. God he looked glorious._ _

__“Wait up!” Molly jogged up to his side. She managed to say, between breaths, “I changed my mind. I do fancy some chips after all._ _


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fish and chips.

The chip & fish shop was unbearably tiny, warm, and crowded, but Molly didn’t seem to notice as she cuddled up next to Sherlock as they awaited their order. She closed her eyes to concentrate on his intoxicating scent: a mix of tobacco, bergamot and high-end cologne tinged with the London air wafted past her nose, temporarily blocking the pungent odor of the grease fryers only a few meters away.

She thought it might be a perfect moment to casually mention her feelings towards him. If he rebuffed her advances then she could laugh it off as a joke, a misunderstanding. But, she also knew it would be near impossible for Sherlock to hear her over the noisy chatter of the patrons. So, she waited, and enjoyed, even just for a moment, touching him, smelling him, being with him.

“Order up!” yelled the chubby middle-aged man behind the counter. Molly snapped out of her perfect moment, almost toppling over as Sherlock left her side to make his way to the counter.

“Thank you, Otis,” said Sherlock.

The man named Otis smiled at Sherlock and winked at Molly as he greasy bag was handed over.

“Anything for you, Sherlock,” said Otis. “Don’t be a stranger, eh? You and you’re – uh- friend.”

Sherlock glanced at Molly and grinned. “Yes. Friend.” His eyes flickered down her body for just a moment, and then in a split second he was out the door.

Molly hesitated, her stomach leaping into her throat. _What did Sherlock mean by that?_ she thought. Without thinking Molly glanced back at Otis, who was now winking at her for the second time.

She practically ran out of the chip shop, brushing up against Sherlock as he hailed a cab.

“Can I drop you somewhere?” he asked as the cab pulled up alongside.

“Um, yes, um,” stuttered Molly. Sherlock turned around, looking at her in confusion. She didn’t want to go, not yet. She needed more time. So she lied.

“Baker street, actually,” she said.

Sherlock’s chin rose as his eyes stayed transfixed on Molly’s.

“Baker street?”

Molly fiddled with her gloves. “Uh, yes, I realized I left my mobile on the desk,” she sputtered. “I’m so sorry, but if it’s not too much trouble….”

Molly ignored the fact that Sherlock didn’t look entirely convinced regarding her little white lie. He instead motioned for her to get into the cab.

“221B Baker Street,” he said to the cabbie.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can here the WTF where did that come from? shouting in my brain. I'll explain in the next chapter. Sort of.

Molly knew she was being obvious when, as soon as Sherlock opened the door, she bolted to the desk and made a great spectacle of finding her phone under a pile of papers. Her fumbling caused a smallish, leather bound book to drop to the floor. Sherlock froze when he saw it.

Molly picked up the book and put it back on the desk. “What is it?” she cringed.

Sherlock snapped back to attention. “It’s nothing,” he said, brushing past her to gaze out the window.

Molly couldn’t help but stare at as his backside, his curls, hands in his pockets and his lithe frame perfectly lined with tailored, posh clothing.  
Tears sprung to her eyes. He was perfect.

“Sherlock,” she croaked.

Sherlock didn’t turn, but answered.

“Yes, Molly?”

Molly was silent for a moment. “I have to tell you something.”

“Yes?” Sherlock turned slightly towards her, eyes still staring out the window.

“I -,” she began, taking a deep breath. “I want you to know, that I – I…

Sherlock turned around. There was something in his expression that made Molly stop talking.

 _What am I doing_? she thought.

Sherlock looked at her, his face becoming unreadable with each passing moment.

Molly cleared her throat. “I just wanted you to know that I’ll – I’ll be washing up the tea set before leaving. It’s only proper,” she said quickly, picking up the tray and walking hurriedly into the kitchen.

She turned on the hot water and tried without success to keep the tears from falling down her cheeks. _So stupid, so stupid_ , she said to herself. _How could I have let it get this far_ ? She dumped the teapot and began to scrub the insides, carefully wiping her tears as she worked.

She jumped when a deep voice directly behind her said: “You didn’t accidentally leave your phone here.”

“What-?” began Molly.

“-It was in your left coat pocket the entire time,” said Sherlock, his voice low and rumbling in her ear. He pressed her small frame against the kitchen counter. “You were creating a situation that would give you time to be alone with me.”

“No, no I -” Molly said shakily.

“Yes,” breathed Sherlock, as his hips pressed into her backside. “Molly, let me. I owe you this.”

His large, slender hands wrapped around her waist. The teapot slipped and shattered in the sink. Molly’s breath caught in her throat.

“No one has to know,” he purred. “This is just for us. For me to show my appreciation for everything you’ve done for me.”

Her breath returned in jagged swells. Her nipples hardened under her bra as her body prepared itself for pleasure. Sherlock slid her hair away from her neck, and lightly kissed her below her ear.

 _Yes, no one has to know_ , she thought.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Shit gets kinda weird. for those of you grossed out by hetero sex (like me), just stick with it. there's (hopefully) enough satisfying johnlock interaction in the next chapter to make up for it.

The day has started off well, at least according to Sherlock. Asking Molly to be a part of his work for a day was a great gesture of trust and affection on his part, though he became keenly aware as the day progressed that Molly probably would have a preferred dinner and a nightcap.

Sherlock had grown quite fond of Molly. His treatment of her had gentled over time; much more so after the Christmas 2012 debacle, where Sherlock found himself chastising Molly in front of her colleagues about her secret crush, only to find out he was the object of her affection. He was relieved to learn that in his absence she had in fact moved on with her life. Besides the ring on her finger, Molly seemed happier, healthier and more confident that he ever remembered her being.

Which is why when he invited her to tag along during his work, he hadn’t expected her to turn so...clingy. Almost...fragile.

_The kiss; An error_ , he had deduced. 

He found himself late in the afternoon standing in his flat with a bag of greasy warm chips and with Molly, who was insistent she left her phone on the desk, though he knew for a fact it was actually in her lower left coat pocket, and had been since she had arrived that morning. Sherlock wasn’t sure why he had allowed the rouse to continue. 

_Bloody sentiment_ , he thought. 

Molly made a beeline to the desk. 

__“Here it is,” she declared. Sherlock watched with amusement her clumsy sleight of hand produce the mobile underneath a pile of papers on the desk. As she did so, small thick book was knocked to the floor. Sherlock recognized the book immediately - John’s case journal. A layer of dust dulled the black leather cover._ _

__Molly picked up the book and put it back on the desk. “What is it?” she cringed._ _

__Sherlock snapped back to attention. “It’s nothing,” he said._ _

__The flat suddenly felt huge and empty as Sherlock thoughtfully made his way to the window, hands in his pockets. The ache in his chest was overwhelming, and hurt much worse than his nose, the one John had smashed repeatedly upon realizing Sherlock was indeed not dead. Sherlock realized he would do anything to have John here now – even if it meant a fourth beating._ _

__“Sherlock.”_ _

___She’s still here ___?_ _

___“Yes, Molly?”_ _ _

___“I have to tell you something.”_ _ _

___“Yes?”_ _ _

___“I -,” she began, taking a deep breath. “I want you to know, that I – I…”_ _ _

___Sherlock turned to observe._ _ _

____Molly, no. No, no, no ___._ _ _

____Molly cleared her throat. “I just wanted you to know that I’ll... I’ll be washing up the tea set before leaving. It’s only proper,” she said quickly, picking up the tray and walking hurriedly away._ _ _ _

____Sherlock closed his eyes and listened to the sounds in the kitchen and pretended it was John making beans and toast. Rinsing the teapot. Filling the kettle._ _ _ _

____But it wasn’t John. It was Molly. Sweet Molly, who had lied, stolen, kept secrets, put her career, her life, on the line for him._ _ _ _

_Because she loves me __._

____It was unprecedented for Sherlock to crave affection, but his heart was breaking. He craved John’s warmth, his companionship. Being so close, and then being denied made him ache physically. Seeing John, being with John, it’s all he’d dreamed about, thought about, for two years. It made him slightly sick to admit that he had taken great pleasure in feeling John’s body against his, even as the good doctor beat the shit out of him.____

And here, he was doing the same to Molly. _Irony is for idiots_ , he thought. 

He’d watched enough films and pornography to know how to make Molly feel good. It would be an interesting experiment. And it would definitely repay any debt he felt towards her. 

______At once he was behind her, listening to her sniffles. It did nothing but fuel is desire to make her,to see her come._ _ _ _ _ _

______“You didn’t accidentally leave your phone here,” he mumbled._ _ _ _ _ _

______Molly jumped._ _ _ _ _ _

______“What-” she began to answer, but Sherlock interrupted._ _ _ _ _ _

______“-It was in your left coat pocket the entire time.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Sherlock pressed her small frame against the kitchen counter with his hips. “You were creating a situation that would give you time to be alone with me.”  
His large, slender hands wrapped around her waist from behind._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Molly,” he said. “Let me. I owe you this.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______The teapot slipped and shattered in the sink._ _ _ _ _ _

______“No one has to know,” he purred. “This is just for us. For me to show my appreciation for everything you’ve done for me.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Molly’s body began to tremble as her breath became jagged swells. He slid her hair away from her neck, and lightly kissed her below her ear._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh!” said Molly, holding on to the counter for dear life. Sherlock held her close, his hand making his way up to her chest, his palm pressing into her neck as he devoured her shoulder, her ear, her cheek, until his mouth was on hers, pressing hungrily into her lips._ _ _ _ _ _

______He deepened the kiss as she turned and pressed their bodies together. Molly made sweet, small gasps as Sherlock stroked her back and bottom. He swept her off the floor to his bedroom, where he placed her gently on the bed, settling on top of her while pulling her bottom lip with his teeth._ _ _ _ _ _

______Molly ran her hands over the buttons of Sherlock’s plum shirt, and opened them expertly one at a time until her hand was free to caress his pale bare chest and nipples. Sherlock found himself (with much fascination) growing hard as she rubbed along his clavicle. It had been years since someone had touched him anywhere._ _ _ _ _ _

______Molly began to grind against his trousers as Sherlock removed her sweater. He pushed her pretty purple bra down to her waist, exposing her small, round breasts. He sucked lightly on a pink, rosy nipple as Molly gasped and placed a hand in his curls. His mouth moved to capture the other nipple between his teeth, tugging gently._ _ _ _ _ _

______Sherlock’s mouth returned to Molly’s as his hands explored her breasts and hips and thighs. He held her down as he repeatedly pressed his hard cock over her abdomen and slid it between her thighs._ _ _ _ _ _

______Molly was flushed and looked like she might come from the simple moves Sherlock was making with his slender hips. She wrapped her legs around Sherlock’s firm behind as explored between her breasts._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Oh god yes,” she moaned._ _ _ _ _ _

______He wasn’t sure if it was just the words, or the way she said it, but Sherlock’s mind was suddenly flooded with images of John beneath him. John, sinewy and hard and challenging his mouth, his hands, his hips. The thoughts fueled his desire as he roughly removed Molly’s leggings. Molly pressed her hands into Sherlock’s chest as she lifted her hips, and it was then she caught an eyeful of her engagement ring still snug on her slender finger._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Wait, oh god, stop. Sherlock. Stop.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______And Sherlock did stop. He felt himself go limp._ _ _ _ _ _

______Molly sat up on her elbows, naked except for her pretty purple bra pushed down to her belly button._ _ _ _ _ _

______“I want this,” she said. “More than anything. But we should stop.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______She glanced at the ring on her hand, and then back up at Sherlock._ _ _ _ _ _

______She smiled sadly.“He’s a good man, Sherlock. A bit boring compared to you,” she smiled. “But he loves me. Besides, I know I’m not the person you really want in your bed.”_ _ _ _ _ _

______Sherlock blushed bright red from his chest to his ears._ _ _ _ _ _

______“Ah, well then,” he said, leaving the bedroom and wandering into the bathroom, leaving Molly sitting in the bed, clutching her chest._ _ _ _ _ _

______Sherlock filled the sink with cold water and stared at himself in the mirror. Dark circles were under his eyes, his nose still swollen from John’s repeated blows. Even his cheekbones were sharper than normal. He still had a good fifteen pounds to go before he was back to his normal weight. He took a deep, cleansing breath, and smelled the scent of John’s inexpensive bar soap. The smell sparked something in Sherlock’s brain, and he began to scan the entire bathroom for John’s things. There was John’s towel, John’s clock, John’s bath mat, John’s toothbrush. It was all here, stuck in a two year time-warp, a fine layer of dust confirming that John had in fact had not stepped foot in 221B, even to gather his things, after Sherlock had seemingly jumped to his death._ _ _ _ _ _

_______Maybe it’s not too late ___, he thought._ _ _ _ _ _

_______Sherlock’s heart skipped a beat. Warmth flooded his limbs. He would find John and ask him. He would ask him to come home._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Molly appeared in the doorway, a sheet held modestly to her chest._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“You okay?” she said._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Sherlock smiled and approached her, stroking her blushing cheek with his thumb._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Yes,” he said, pulling her into an open-mouthed kiss. “I’m fine. But we have unfinished business.” Sherlock nodded toward the bedroom._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Molly shook her head slightly. “I don’t think we should, Sherlock.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Let me do this for you.” His fingers slide down her stomach and between her legs. She moaned. “Let me say thank you,” he said as he kissed her. “Just this once.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Molly gasped and let go of the sheet, letting it flutter to the ground. Sherlock removed her bra and lined kisses down from her neck, between her breasts to her navel. He let his hand massage in between her thighs as he let his finger slip between her moist core, caressing her center, making her buckle, squirming against his chest._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Get on the bed,” he growled._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Molly did as she was told. Sherlock followed, grabbing John’s toothbrush as he left._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Sherlock removed his trousers and pants as he lay side by side with Molly, stroking her thighs and working his way into her soft center. He settled himself between her legs, pressing her knees apart and into the bed as he slid his tongue over her sensitive nub ,his two fingers gently fucking her, in and out, in and out. His tongue joined his fingers working their way in and out as he flipped on John’s electric toothbrush._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Sherlock gently pressed the vibrating head against Molly’s clit, then removed it._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______She cried out in pleasure. “Oh god, Sherlock. What is that?”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Sherlock pressed it again against her body. Molly’s back arched so highly she came up off the bed._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Oh oh oh,” gasped Molly, practically sitting up, straining to see what this wondrous new contraption looked like._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Sherlock instead caught her mouth with his lips and tongue, distracting her with a long, deep kiss._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Lie back now,” Sherlock said in her ear, deep and demanding. Molly briefly tried to squeezed her legs together for some relief, Sherlock pinned her knees back to the mattress, as wide as he could possibly spread her open._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______He lowered his tongue back into her center, his fingers still slick and in action as he explored her inside and out. Molly jerked in anticipation as Sherlock turned on the toothbrush._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______He gently pressed the vibrating head directly on her clit. This time he let it ride._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Molly began to jerk and writhe under him as his tongue and fingers fucked her pussy. Sherlock moved the toothbrush from side to side, up and down and around. As his tongue flicked over her core, he glanced and saw Molly, her eyes squeezed shut and her hands white knuckled and gripping the sheets._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______It wasn’t long Molly was crying out in pleasure, trembling as multiple orgasms shook her body from the inside and out._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______She then pushed Sherlock’s hand holding the toothbrush aside, grabbing it away and inspecting it._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“A toothbrush?” said Molly incredulously, staring at Sherlock. “I just had the best orgasm of my life and it was because of a bloody toothbrush.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______Sherlock grinned, the taste of her still on his lips. Her auburn hair was matted against her forehead, and a silly smile was plastered on her face. He crawled up and kissed her deeply, and she kissed him back, pulling his warm, lithe body close._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“I wish you would have thought to thank me in this way first, before dragging me along as a pseudo-John on all your cases,” joked Molly, as she pulled away._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Well, this…it’s not really my area,”said Sherlock, smiling._ _ _ _ _ _ _

_______“Coulda fooled me,” said Molly, smiling back._ _ _ _ _ _ _


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The payoff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find the unicorn! (thanks to a brilliant suggestion from BanimalQ)

Sherlock was eating cold chips when he heard Mary shouting for him from below. His blood ran cold as he stepped out onto the landing.

“Mary, what is it?”

Mary shoved the phone into Sherlock’s face. _Skip code. Mary, how could possibly know this is a skip - ___...

__Oh no. John. ____

__****_ _

__Sherlock finally returned to Baker Street later that night, his normal proud gait weary and his body and clothes reeking of wood smoke. His hands fumbled the keys in the front lock, his fingers stinging and swelling from the tiny splinters embedded deep in his skin._ _

__He’d snapped at Mary about “wasting valuable time” when she’d suggested he seek medical treatment. Sherlock was sure John’s kidnappers had left clues, but hours of intense searching only led to him dead ends. Reluctantly, he headed back to the flat._ _

__Sherlock finally managed to insert the correct key into the lock when Mrs. Hudson flung open the door, her face etched with worry._ _

__“Sherlock! Are you alright?” she said, pulling him inside. “You gave me a fright. Oh!” She lifted the back of her hand to her nose. “You smell like you’ve been standing inside a bonfire!”_ _

__Sherlock smiled wearily as he started up the stairs, the landlady following right behind. “Mrs. Hudson, your powers of deduction are rather impeccable at times.”_ _

__“And that Mary, busting in like she did. What ever was the matter?”_ _

__“John was kidnapped. Mary had received a message, a code, that led us to his location.”_ _

__They entered the flat, Sherlock shucking his coat and began to undress with some difficulty._ _

__“Is he alright?” said Mrs. Hudson incredulously. “Who would do such a thing!”_ _

__“He will be fine. He’s just a bit - someone drugged him, and placed him inside a lit bonfire.”_ _

__“You’ve got to be joking,” said Mrs. Hudson, gasping. “Poor John. And you, Sherlock, you saved him! Oh I’m so relieved. Is there anything I can do?”_ _

__Sherlock smiled in spite of himself, and kissed Mrs. Hudson on the cheek._ _

__“No, Mrs. Hudson,” he said. “But it is good to be home.”_ _

__******_ _

__The following afternoon, Sherlock was lying on the couch sulking in his dressing gown, nursing his throbbing hands and nose with a flannel-wrapped ice pack. His whole body ached, but not nearly as much as his heart. His triumphant return to London had been a complete disaster. Though his biggest fear was another attack on John's life, he also worried that John would continue to distance himself. And there was little reason, Sherlock concluded, to be in London without John._ _

__He groaned and burrowed deeper into the couch, his face buried in the cushion._ _

__When the downstairs door opened moments later, Sherlock immediately perked up. He listened...and yes, there was John's distinctive footsteps on the stairs. A light knock at the door and Sherlock was sitting up straight, hiding the flannel and fumbling with his laptop. He took a deep breath, began to type and said evenly:_ _

__"Do come in, John."_ _

__John stepped gingerly into the flat, standing with the door open wide, his eyes finally landing on Sherlock clacking away on the computer. He smirked a bit at the scene: he could tell by the way Sherlock's curls were matted on the side of his head that he'd been lying on the couch moments before, and the cool, nonchalant attitude was the armor to protect himself from whatever emotional outburst John hurled at him next._ _

__"I hope you don't mind," said John. "I still had a key."_ _

__Sherlock eyed him suspiciously and snapped the laptop shut "Of course not." He paused, then added softly: "You are always welcome here."_ _

__An awkward, silent moment ensued as both men waited for the other to speak._ _

__"Please, sit down." Sherlock finally said, moving towards the crackling fireplace. John followed, easing into his old chair and adjusting the Union Jack pillow behind his back, but thought better of it and leaned forward, elbows on his knees._ _

__"I'd offer you tea, but the pot is broken. And I don't have any tea, come to think of it."_ _

__"That's quite alright. I won't be long," said John, folding his hands. "I just wanted to check in, see how the investigation was going. Any leads from last night?"_ _

__Sherlock's eyes dropped. "No. Nothing." His fingers were on his lips, his pajama'd leg nervously jiggling up and down. "I'm sorry, John."_ _

__John sighed. "Yeah, me too."_ _

__More silence followed._ _

__"We're making progress."_ _

__"I thought you just said you had no leads."_ _

__"I meant you and me," said Sherlock, his eyes sparkling. "We've spent more than 5 minutes together without you punching me in the face."_ _

__John cracked a smile in spite of himself. "Yeah...about that." The good doctor licked his lips. "That was...a bit over the top. You're timing was, as usual, abhorrent. My vision, it went red. And Mary..." he swallowed. "As I said, your timing is shit."_ _

__"I interrupted your marriage proposal," Sherlock flatly stated._ _

__John shook his head. "That's not what I meant. I mean, yes, you did, but...my only option...: John swallowed. "My only option was to hit you."_ _

__Sherlock snapped to attention. "What do you mean?" he slowly asked._ _

__John's eyes were wide, nervous and penetrating. Sherlock observed his increased breathing pattern, the flush rising on his neck, his right hand opening and closing. The flat suddenly felt very warm._ _

__John again shook his head. "No. You have to answer me first. Why did you do it? Why did you feel you had to die?"_ _

__Sherlock decided it was time John knew the truth. He no longer had anything to lose._ _

__"Moriarty had three gunmen; one aimed at Lestrade, one at Mrs. Hudson, and one..." He paused just to be dramatic. "...aimed at you."_ _

__John leaned back into the chair and crossed his arms. "Go on."_ _

__"Moriarty said that if I didn't jump, he would have you all killed. So I jumped."_ _

__"Yes," said John coldly. "I was there, remember?"_ _

__Sherlock, terrified he would say something that would make John hit him again, or worse, leave, sat as still as stone._ _

__John glared at Sherlock._ _

__"Two years. In all that time, you never once thought to let me know you were alive."_ _

__"It was too dangerous."_ _

__"Too dangerous," repeated John, his voice growing louder, his nostrils flaring. "I grieved for you. My life as I knew it was over." He seemed to realize he was shouting, so lowered his voice, whispering hoarsely. "For the longest time, I would wish I could just crawl into that grave with you."_ _

__Sherlock closed his eyes. The rawness of John's confession was overwhelming him._ _

__"I stood at your headstone, and I'd beg you to come back to me. For you to not be dead." John snorted. "For all I know you were bloody watching me."_ _

__Sherlock sudden change in facial expression gave him away._ _

__"Oh no, don't tell me you were bloody there, watching me pour my bloody heart out." When Sherlock didn't answer John bolted out of the chair and was in Sherlock's face in less than a second. Sherlock forced himself not to move._ _

__"That's cruel. Sick. You machine. Selfish prick. Didn't once think of those you left behind. Leaving me behind."_ _

__"No, John," said Sherlock evenly "You don't understand..."_ _

__"Don't tell me I don't understand," he sneered. "You bloody sociopath."_ _

__Sherlock let out a shaky breath. He could barely bring himself to look at John. "I was wrong in my methods but my intentions were true. Your safety was all that mattered."_ _

__John seethed inches away, but Sherlock couldn't bring himself to look at him._ _

__"I thought about you every day," Sherlock said softly. His ears had turned crimson, his eyes distant, remembering. "In fact, I used to have these conversations with you. I'd tell you about the mission, my discoveries, my...kills. And you'd tell me I was amazing, clever, brilliant. And it'd keep me going another day." He closed his eyes, was solemn._ _

__John, speechless, rubbed his hands over his face. A slight sob escaped from his throat that he tried to cover with a cough._ _

__"I don't know what to do with that information. I just.." His voice grew hoarse and strained. "I grieved and grieved and grieved and now, today, you are sitting here in front of me, in our flat, like nothing ever happened. And I don't want to be angry with you, but I am. I'm furious."_ _

__Sherlock's frame had all but disappeared into the armchair. His face had fallen and his eyes were cast down, like he was willing himself to disappear. A single tear slipped down his cheek. "I'm sorry, John," he said wearily. "I'm so sorry."_ _

__"Stop it! Don't..." John roughly grabbed Sherlock's hands and squeezed hard. Sherlock struggled and winced from the pain._ _

__"John, You're hurting me, I'm sorry -"_ _

__"I told you to stop it," he whispered, his breath hot on Sherlock's mouth as he leaned in and passionately pressed his lips against the detective's. John pulled Sherlock's hands to his chest, and placed them over his heart,_ _

__Sherlock's cry of surprise was muffled by John's mouth, which was not so delicately exploring every aspect of Sherlock's full, luscious lips. He slipped his tongue inside, and Sherlock groaned. He began to kiss him back, with more than enough enthusiasm to make up for his lack of skill._ _

__John pulled back, breathing hard. He held the back Sherlock's neck as he brought his forehead to meet his._ _

__"Don't say it again. I don't want to hear it."_ _

__"John-"_ _

__"Shut up. For once in your bloody life..." And John pulled Sherlock to him, his lips violently working his, trailing over his cheek and along Sherlock's long graceful neck. Sherlock clung to John's shoulders, overwhelmed, overjoyed...overstimulated._ _

__"Come here," John ordered, pulling Sherlock to the floor. He pinned his long lithe frame to the floor with his strong arms and legs, snogging him senseless._ _

__John undid the buttons of Sherlock’s silk pajamas and removed his bottoms and pants with one fluid motion. John worshiped Sherlock’s beautiful, slender body with his hands and mouth, stroking him, leaving trails of kisses over his clavicle, taking a nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling and licking the hardened nub. He pressed his hard length against Sherlock’s weeping erection. Sherlock moaned in response._ _

__"Turn over," John whispered, and Sherlock did without hesitation._ _

__John peeled off his jumper, and positioned himself on his knees between Sherlock's legs. "Come up for me a bit, now" he said softly, as he gently pulled on Sherlock's hips._ _

__Sherlock adjusted himself and placed his head on his hands, his elbows bent and his gorgeous round ass sticking straight up in the air. His breath was ragged and his cock was leaking, but he didn't move. He felt John's breath on his tailbone._ _

__“Oh god, you’re bloody gorgeous,” John said, his hands palming at his skin, massaging full round handfuls of Sherlock’s ass between his palms._ _

__He continued gentle swirls all over Sherlock’s hips, then stroked the backs of his legs legs. "I've been wanting to do this to you since that first day we met," he whispered. "Just in case we die tomorrow..." And he licked the back of Sherlock's tailbone._ _

__A small whimper escaped Sherlock's lips as he scratched at the rug with his fingernails. John's hands and mouth seemed to be everywhere at once. He pushed his naked behind further into the air as John held his thighs firmly in place. He felt fingers deftly working their way inside curve of his bottom, exploring and pressing along his center. He was lost in the sensation of John's touch, so he wasn’t prepared for the immediate arousal John’s wet tongue slipping inside him would cause him._ _

__His hips bucked, but John’s grip held firm as his mouth and tongue worked over and inside Sherlock. The repetitive "ungh, ungh" punctuated by an occasion "ohhhh" out of Sherlock's sweet mouth only made John more relentless. Sherlock gripped the rug, pulling it so hard it began to ripple._ _

__John spread apart Sherlock’s perfect, round cheeks with both hands, and ran his tongue all the way down his cleft and underneath, taking each of Sherlock’s testicles into his mouth, sucking gently, flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin. He made his way back up the same way, mouth leaving trickles of saliva running down Sherlock’s thighs. John stopped to admire Sherlock’s pink center, massaging it lightly with his index finger: and then stuck his tongue deep into his tight little asshole._ _

__"John!" shouted Sherlock, reaching underneath to pull on his aching cock. "Oh God, John", he whimpered._ _

__"That's it, touch yourself. Oh God yes," huffed John. He watched Sherlock's arm move back and forth as the good doctor worked his way inside, using his tongue to coax the opening a little further with each dip, until he could easily fuck Sherlock with his two fingers, going deeper and gently twisting, exploring his inside while he tongue still worked the outside._ _

__Sherlock's fist was sliding hard over his soaked prick, his face buried in his hand as he felt the wave of pleasure overtake him, drowning in sensation, John’s hands and mouth and his own fingers holding himself, stroking himself to release. “Ung, unghh, oh god, oh god” he whined, until he spilled all over his fist, all over the carpet. John held him throughout, encouraging with words and soft kisses down his back. “Yes, yes come for me. Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” and then he gently removed his fingers, helping Sherlock onto his back._ _

__Sherlock’s chest was heaving, his eyelids hooded, his mouth pink and full from kissing and biting his own hand as he came. John fell back against his chair, looking relaxed and very, very pleased with himself. He wiped his fingers carelessly on the carpet, then grimaced as he palmed at his rock hard erection through his jeans. He was so aroused, it was almost painful._ _

__John didn’t even see Sherlock move: he was just suddenly there, in front of him, his mouth over his flies nibbling through the denim, his slender hands groping his hips. John’s head fell back and moaned, then he reached forward and grabbed a handful of Sherlock’s curls, forcing the consulting detective to look up at him. “Jesus, you’re a bloody unicorn.”_ _

__Sherlock, gorgeous and well-sexed, said in his deepest baritone: “Remove your trousers.”_ _

__John undid his flies and Sherlock violently yanked his trousers and pants both down at the same time. John kicked them off as Sherlock settled in between his legs, his llips ghosting over the insides of his thick, muscled thighs, his short, fat cock, his soft but strong abdomen. He stopped to bury his nose in John’s pubic hair, breathing deeply. Sherlock moaned as he exhaled, then flattened his tongue and licked the length of John’s thick cock from root to tip._ _

__John moaned as Sherlock continued his assault, flicking his tongue over the head and palming his testicles up and down in a firm stroke. When he finally slid John’s length into his hot mouth, both men groaned in unison. The vibration caused John’s hips to buck, so he worked his fingers into Sherlock’s curls, encouraging him to take more into his throat, making Sherlock gag but quickly recover as he looked up assuredly into John’s eyes._ _

__The image of Sherlock with his mouth bobbing up and down on his prick was too much. He groaned and whispered, “Yes, yes suck it. God yes, that’s a good lad. Suck - ooohhh fuck..” Sherlock answered him by lifting John’s legs up over his shoulders, the back of his calves dangling over Sherlock’s graceful, pale back. Sherlock opened his throat and swallowed: John felt the tip of his cock reach the back of Sherlock’s throat._ _

__The sensation was so intense that John didn’t realize until Sherlock started squirming that he was holding Sherlock’s head to his abdomen, with his lips still touching the root of his cock. He immediately let go, and Sherlock exhaled loudly, John’s cock only falling out of his mouth for a split second as he caught his breath and dove in for more._ _

__Saliva dripped from Sherlock’s chin as he swallowed John’s cock again, and again, and again. He hummed as precome washed over his tongue, salty and warm. He gripped John’s hips so hard he accidentally broke skin._ _

__John groaned and groaned and bucked so hard as he came that Sherlock almost let go, but he held on and sucked him through it, drinking and swallowing all John had to give. Sherlock sighed as his lips popped off of John’s cock, and proceeded to untangle himself from the good doctor’s tanned, hairy legs. He flopped onto his back, his head against John’s thigh. He felt John’s fingers gently stroking his cheek._ _

__“I’m not sure what that was, but I’m telling you right now, I don’t regret it,” said John, cupping Sherlock’s face with his palm. “I’ll never regret that. That. Was. Amazing.”_ _

__Sherlock placed his hand on John’s, kissing his palm, then threading his fingers between his own._ _

__“You have wanted me from the first day,” he said, more of a statement than a question._ _

__“Sherlock,” said John. “I’ve always wanted you.” He hesitated, then said. “It was you who didn’t want me.”_ _

__Sherlock sat up to face John, and held both his hands in his his. His eyes glistened._ _

__“We are both idiots.”_ _

__John managed a laughed, and stroked Sherlock’s cheek._ _

__“Yeah, I guess we are.”_ _

__“I have to ask,” said Sherlock warily, looking away. “What of Mary?”_ _

__John looked immediately saddened, but managed a smile. “Mary. I love Mary. I really do. But you’re alive, Sherlock.” He leaned forward and kissed him softly. “I can’t lose you again. You’re the love of my life.”_ _

__Tears fell from Sherlock’s eyes like raindrops as he held John’s hands to his lips._ _

__“And you, John Watson, are mine.”_ _

__The two men then embraced, never to let go._ _

__

__The end._ _


End file.
